


7.12 "Lost And Found 2"

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Series: Warp 5 Complex Virtual Season 7 [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Virtual Season/Series, Warp 5 Complex Virtual Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-04
Updated: 2008-04-04
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: A rescue attempt involving a missing Starfleet shuttle's passengers, including Reed's mother, leads the Enterprise crew to accept help from unknown aliens who use T'Pol to communicate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Beta: Kylie Lee  


* * *

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed gasped, sucking in a great lungful of stale air. He took a step forward to recover both his balance and his composure, trying to clear the sensation of suffocation from his mind. He still found _Enterprise_ 's transporter disturbing even after seven years of using it, but it was nothing compared to the method the aliens supposedly helping them had. For one thing, it was too close to what he imagined drowning to be like.

A glance at the rest of the landing party showed him that Captain Jonathan Archer and his father, Captain Stuart Reed, were similarly uncomfortable. Commander T'Pol appeared to be her normal serene self, but it wasn't really her. The aliens with whom she was in communication had overridden her consciousness. They might be drawing on her Vulcan training in this situation, but they had provided the method of transportation; Reed didn't think that they'd have any reason to be startled by it.

They were on a planet in the Caylara Cluster. A Starfleet shuttle that had mysteriously disappeared en route from Earth to Mars Colony had inexplicably turned up in the uncharted area of space _Enterprise_ was exploring. They would almost certainly have been sent to investigate anyway, but the situation had been dramatically personalized for Reed by the revelation that his mother had been one of the shuttle's passengers--which also explained his father's not-at-all-welcome presence. Captain Stuart Reed had left Earth to rendezvous with them and search for his missing wife. The Vulcan ship that had transported him, the _D'Kyr,_ under the command of Captain Stal, was remaining in the vicinity to assist.

At the same time as they had learned about the shuttle's disappearance, a number of strange incidents aboard _Enterprise_ had led them to suspect they had alien company. Unexplained smoke would disappear when investigated, and an oppressive feeling of being watched was experienced by the more telepathically sensitive crew members. T'Pol had made contact with the aliens by lowering her mental barriers and allowing them into her mind. Doctor Phlox had reported reading several alien brainwaves along with her own when he scanned her immediately afterward.

Once communication had been established, the aliens claimed to have found the missing shuttle, and to have been trying to communicate with _Enterprise_ crew members with a view to assisting in a rescue attempt. On the surface, it was a lucky coincidence.

Reed did not believe in coincidence.

"Everyone all right?" Archer asked.

It was clear to Reed that Archer's question was largely rhetorical, a way of settling himself after the disorienting transport, but he answered it anyway. "Yes, sir. I'm not reading any life signs other than our own." He turned slowly, scanner in hand. They'd transported into a hallway of some sort, with cold, bare walls, floors, and ceiling. There was enough light to see the rough texture of the walls. At least the atmosphere was breathable, Reed thought with another involuntary gulp of air; most of the planet was uninhabitable for humanoid life forms. They had successfully transported into the shielded complex that their scans of the planet had detected.

"T'Pol?" Archer prompted. "I thought you and your alien friends were staying on _Enterprise_."

"It is necessary for us to be with you to assist with your task," said the Vulcan--or rather, the aliens who were occupying her body. "We are searching for others, but the material used to construct this place is impeding us."

Reed ran his scanner over the wall. "Concrete, with steel reinforcement," he said with a shrug, following up the scan by running his hand over the slightly rough surface. He exchanged a look with Archer. It didn't seem reasonable that noncorporeal aliens who could move at will through space--and spaceships--should be stymied by a concrete wall.

"Humph! Alien concrete."

It was Reed's father's first comment since their arrival. It seemed innocuous, but to one as well tuned to his moods as his son, it was a clear indication of irritation and impatience. Or perhaps it was just a reaction to being transported. Reed doubted his father had ever used a transporter, and the aliens' version had been a rather abrupt initiation.

"There doesn't seem to be anything alien about it," Reed said. "It's a perfectly ordinary concrete wall. This whole place could be built specifically to allow humans to survive on this world, as far as the readings show: concrete walls, nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, eighteen degrees Celsius."

"The proportions are right too," his father interjected, waving a hand toward what appeared to be a doorway farther down the corridor.

Reed caught Archer's eye. "We appear to be on the top level of a multilevel complex, which is inside the shielded area. I'm reading at least ten levels below us, all apparently much the same as this one."

The three humans looked around, taking in their surroundings. They were in a corridor, approximately fifty meters long, with what seemed to be cross-corridors at either end. The concrete walls were a pale, unpainted gray, and they were broken at intervals by dark recesses that looked like doorways.

"Lights," Archer said suddenly. "There aren't any lights."

Reed involuntarily glanced up, as if searching for overhead lighting fixtures. There were none. "And yet there is light," he mused, "although I'm not reading any sign of an active power source."

His father harrumphed again, indicating his growing impatience, but Reed was saved from having to respond by T'Pol.

"We must descend," she said in flat monotone.

"You've found them?" Reed Senior demanded.

"We must descend to search further. The way is there." She pointed to the far end of the corridor.

At a nod from Archer, the party set off. Reed, out in front, fought the urge to unholster his phase pistol and tried to ignore the headache he felt building behind his eyes.

* * *

"Whoa!" Commander Trip Tucker leaped up from his position at the bridge engineering station as Archer and the others disappeared. "That was kind of sudden. And I thought T'Pol was staying here. Can you pick up their biosigns on the planet, Hoshi?"

"No, sir," responded Ensign Hoshi Sato immediately. "I'm not reading their communicators' location signals, either." Her hands darted over the controls on the console before her. "No response to hails."

As Sato spoke, Tucker crossed to the science station, but his quick scans only confirmed the communications officer's report. "I don't like the look of this. Hail Captain Stal on the _D'Kyr_. Let's see if their scanners can find anything."

Sato started to move to obey, but stopped and looked across at Tucker. "Sir, the _D'Kyr_ is hailing us."

Tucker closed his eyes briefly, fearing trouble, and moved to stand in front of the captain's chair. "Put them on."

The image on the main viewscreen shifted to show the interior of the other vessel's bridge. Stal, seated in his captain's chair, without any preliminary courtesies, asked, "Is everything as it should be, Commander?"

"The aliens have just transported the landing party down to the planet. At least, we assume they have." When Stal raised an eyebrow, Tucker clarified, "They vanished, and now we can't get any readings of them. Why do you ask?"

"Healer T'Kas reported an...alteration in her perception of T'Pol."

"T'Kas and T'Pol are linked?" Tucker asked, surprised. He too was linked with T'Pol--how, he wasn't sure, but it had happened during their time in the Expanse. For the most part, he was unaware of the link. He'd been reminded of it only a few times, when T'Pol had relaxed her mental barriers or had been in danger. The lack of anything resembling that type of contact with her at this moment had vaguely reassured him as to the safety of the landing party. T'Kas, Tucker knew, had been present when T'Pol had made contact with the aliens. He hadn't thought it would involve a link similar to his. "I thought she was just monitoring the contact," he said.

"It is not what you would recognize as a link. It would be difficult to explain."

Tucker, recognizing the Vulcan's reluctance to go into detail, let the point drop. He turned instead to a more urgent question. "Can you pick up any readings of the landing party, Captain?"

"No. Nor did we read any transporter signature."

"I'm not sure there was one to read," Tucker admitted. "T'Pol said it was time, and then they just vanished."

"Indeed. It may have been their disappearance that T'Kas registered. I will ask her to consider the possibility."

Yeah, you do that, Tucker thought, a little exasperated at the Vulcan captain's apparent lack of concern or any sense of urgency. He contented himself with saying, "I'm going to work on the planet's shielding. There's something familiar about it that I can't quite put my finger on. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Stal inclined his head in acknowledgment, and without further comment, he cut the connection.

Turning to the helm, Tucker clapped a hand on Ensign Mayweather's shoulder. "Travis, you have the bridge. I'll be in engineering if I'm needed."

He headed to the turbolift, holding the door long enough catch Sato's eye. She'd been one of the first to feel the aliens' presence, and he was relying on her sensitivity to give them advance warning if they returned. "Let me know if you think we have any more visitors, Hoshi," he called as he stepped into the turbolift.

* * *

"We must descend farther."

Reed suppressed a sigh at T'Pol's statement. They were already five levels below ground in the complex. They weren't searching it in any conventional meaning of the term. They couldn't, for the place was huge, and at the behest of the aliens, they seemed to be wandering randomly. Reed tried to keep track of their route, but it was impossible. Every corridor looked the same, with no distinguishing features other than a colored stripe on the doors, a different color for each level.

At first they had opened every door they had come to. However, that had revealed nothing but a succession of small, unadorned rooms. After the first two levels, they stopped checking, deciding it was better to rely on the aliens than to slow down their search.

They did find a lift shaft, but because there was no power, they were unable to make use of it. Whatever powered the lights did not extend to powering the lifts. Much to Reed's dismay, whoever had built the complex apparently hadn't felt the need to build stairs, and the only way they could move between levels was by climbing down metal ladders in what seemed to be maintenance shafts. Initially his concern was for his father, no longer young and certainly unaccustomed since his retirement to hard physical exercise; but by the time they had reached the current level, the effort was beginning to tell on him personally. The headache that had been threatening since their arrival, and that he'd put down to the stress of the alien transport, was becoming more persistent. Now it was a thumping pain at his temples that echoed the beat of his pulse. It didn't help that his father was becoming more and more ill-humored.

"Descend farther! Descend farther! Is that all you can say?" Reed senior demanded of the aliens in T'Pol's form. He stood toe to toe with the Vulcan, sneering into her face. "Answer me! Do you have any idea where they are?"

The band around Reed's head tightened a notch at his father's outburst. "Please, Father--" He stopped speaking and took step back as his father's fury latched onto the new target he presented.

"What good is your Starfleet now, boy? Answer me that. Your mother--"

"Stop it!" Archer ordered, interposing himself between the two Reeds and halting the older man's tirade. "Captain Reed, I appreciate that you're worried about your wife, but if you can't control your temper, I shall ask the aliens to send you back to _Enterprise_."

Reed senior leaned toward Archer, his stance indicating he was bruising for a fight and willing to take on anyone who offered. He and Archer glared at each other, neither willing to give way.

Like a pair of fighting cocks. Reed grimaced at the thought and the image it conjured up. He started toward his father, hoping to intercede, when a sudden wave of dizziness hit him and he swayed, stumbling into the wall and scraping his hand on the rough surface. He screwed his eyes shut, fighting against the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Language, Malcolm!"

He jerked around at the familiar feminine voice. The sudden movement was too much, and as he toppled, darkness closing in on him, he just managed to mumble, "Mum?"

* * *

"Bridge to Commander Tucker."

Tucker set down the padd he was studying and thumbed his console. He'd spent the last few hours in his office in engineering, working. He didn't feel like he'd gotten much done. "Yes?"

It was Ensign Young, Reed's stand-in at tactical. "Sir, a spatial anomaly has appeared on scanners, 12.5 light-years away. Stellar cartography confirms it seems to be the one they were investigating two weeks ago, but there's something strange about it."

Tucker was having difficulty figuring out why Young was telling him this. The anomaly was far enough away not to present a problem, unless it suddenly started moving in their direction. And _strange_ was far from a definitive term. "Strange how?"

"There's a sensor shadow near it. It's not clear--it keeps appearing and disappearing. It looks like it may be a ship, sir."

Tucker immediately recalled past instances of sensor shadows. Over the last three years, more often than not, they'd turned out to be cloaked Romulan ships. "I'm on my way," he said as he rose to his feet. "Get Hoshi to check with the _D'Kyr_. See if they can get a clearer reading." He was already out the door of his office as Young acknowledged his orders.

Tucker made his way quickly to the bridge. As he stepped out of the turbolift, he was in time to hear Captain Stal say, "I will have the readings transmitted to you."

"Thank you, Captain," Sato said, and then noticing Tucker, she added to him, "Commander, the _D'Kyr_ 's scanners have more information on the sensor shadow."

"Yes?" Tucker looked to Stal, at the same time crossing to the science station and calling up the readings as the _D'Kyr_ sent them over.

"It is my science officer's belief that your 'sensor shadow' is a cloaked ship," the Vulcan explained.

Tucker felt his gut clench. His initial surmise about the spatial anomaly was apparently confirmed. "Cloaked? You mean Romulan?"

"As they are the only species of which we are aware that has that technology, yes, that would be a logical conclusion."

"Never rains but it pours," Tucker muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Stal tilted his head to the side in a manner that reminded Tucker of _Enterprise_ 's resident Vulcan when confronted with a human colloquialism that defied logical translation. "Never rains...?"

Tucker hadn't meant his comment to be public, but he'd forgotten about Vulcans' exceptional hearing. "Sorry," he said. "Just an Earth saying. Does the ship appear to be doing anything?"

"The readings are unclear. It is possible they are merely studying the spatial anomaly. The ship first showed on scans seventeen minutes after the anomaly's appearance."

"Hmm." Tucker was unconvinced. It would be too much of a coincidence for a Romulan ship--if that is what it was--to just happen to be studying an anomaly in the same area of space as two Earth ships and a Vulcan one. Putting that problem out of his mind for the moment, he addressed the other thing that was puzzling him. "There's something else you might be able to help us with, Captain. I've been studying the shielding protecting the complex. The aliens said it would stop us using the transporter or a shuttle. The thing is, I know we can't get a transporter signal through--we tried, and it just bounced back--but from what I can see, it shouldn't be a barrier to communications. It looks a lot like the EM barrier system our tactical officer has been developing. A shield over that large an area shouldn't be very stable, and we should be able to punch a hole in it, but we can't. With your greater experience with shielding technology, maybe you can see something we don't."

Stal paused before answering, clearly considering the idea. "Interesting," he responded, with typical Vulcan understatement. "Send me your research and I will ask my science officer to investigate. If that is all?"

"Yes, thank you. And goodbye to you too," Tucker said to the blank screen as Stal signed off before he'd finished speaking. Tucker turned. "Hoshi, hail _Columbia_. We better keep Captain Hernandez in the loop. I'm sure she'll be glad for something to do, other than backing us up."

"Aye, sir." Sato suppressed as smile as she hailed the other ship. A moment later, the viewscreen changed to a view of _Columbia'_ s bridge.

Hernandez cut straight to the chase. "Commander, are you calling to tell me about the anomaly and its accompanying sensor ghost?" she asked.

"Accompanying cloaked ship, Captain, according to our Vulcan friends," Tucker informed her.

"Ah. I did wonder. The readings are similar to some we've seen before. Do you think this is connected to your mission, or are they just trying to tempt us to go investigate?"

"To be honest, I have no idea." Tucker shook his head. "If it is the Romulans, they must know we're here. From what we've seen, their scanners are on a par with the Vulcans."

"It's probably best not to risk stirring things up until your mission is resolved." She paused, her eyes registering concern. "Have you heard from Captain Archer?"

"No." Tucker sighed. "It's been five hours since the aliens transported the landing party to the planet, and we haven't been able to make contact at all during that time. Captain Archer's orders were to give the aliens twenty-four hours, but I have to admit, I'm getting kind of antsy."

"Keep me posted," Hernandez told him. "We'll continue on our current course for now, but if you think we can help, let me know."

"Thanks, Captain. And watch your back while you're watching ours. One ship on its own makes for a tempting target."

Hernandez signed off, and Tucker moved back to the science station to send the data on Reed's EM barrier research to the _D'Kyr_. As he worked, he said to Sato, "Hoshi, why can't we contact the away team? What's keeping the transmissions from getting through?"

"The shielding," she replied immediately. "It's acting like a reflective layer, bouncing back everything I throw at it."

"Just like the transporter," Tucker mused. "But it shouldn't do that. I've been over all the sensor readings, and I've gotten Malcolm's files on his research project--and who he thinks he's protecting them from with a level three security code..." He rolled his eyes.

Sato grinned. "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, as Lieutenant Reed might say."

"Yes, well, he's going to be none too pleased that I broke his code." Tucker grinned back at her before becoming serious again. "The point is, the specs on that alien shielding down there match up pretty well with what Malcolm's been working on--which is amazing enough in itself--and while it would certainly block a transporter signal, there's no way it should be bouncing communications."

"Maybe if I could see Lieutenant Reed's specs, sir?" Sato suggested. "I could correlate what should be happening with what is, and see if I can find a way through."

"Good idea." Tucker transferred Reed's EM barrier data to Sato's station. "Before you send this file to the _D'Kyr_ , make a copy for yourself. It's got all the information about Malcolm's research."

* * *

Reed was ten years old, on holiday, and hating every minute of it. His parents had chartered a yacht, and they were exploring the Scottish coastline. However, his seasickness was spoiling everything for everyone. His father was convinced that he did it deliberately. He'd long ago learned it was better not to try to argue with something Father declared to be true. Whether his father really believed the smelling salts would help or he did it as a punishment, he didn't know, but every time he was sick, out the damn stuff would come. And Father would hold them under his nose, by force if necessary, and exhort him to--

"Breathe, Malcolm. Take a deep breath." The familiar acrid fumes assailed his nostrils as the voice continued, "Did this when he was sick as a child. Worked every time."

No, it bloody well didn't, Reed thought, groaning and turning his head away.

"Maybe we should let him have some air now."

That was Archer. Eager to reward the captain for getting rid of the smelling salts, Reed managed, "I'm fine." He blinked open his eyes to reveal two disbelieving stares, and amended, "I'll be fine. It's just this damn headache."

Archer pulled out a scanner and trained it on Reed. "You're a little dehydrated and showing all the signs of a tension headache, but I'm not seeing anything else." He handed the scanner over so Reed, a trained field medic, could see for himself.

Reed looked at the data briefly and grimaced. "It felt a lot worse than that--more...I don't know, more like a migraine."

"You don't get migraines," his father said in a manner that brooked no argument. "Allergies by the dozen--you're your mother's son there, all right--but I've never known you to have a migraine."

Reed bit back a retort: for the better part of twenty years, his father hadn't known what his son did or didn't get. Instead, he said, "A sick headache, then, with throbbing pain and nausea and--" He stopped abruptly, knowing how daft what he'd been about to say sounded, and dreading the inevitable reaction.

His father wasn't deceived that easily. "Spit it out," he commanded. "I know there's more. It may be important, no matter how irrelevant it seems."

After a quick glance at his father's scowling countenance, Reed addressed his answer to Archer. "I heard my mother, sir."

"Your mother?" Surprised, Archer rocked back on his heels, and Reed took advantage of the extra space to scramble to his feet.

"I scraped my hand," he said, holding it out to show broken skin and traces of oozing blood. "I swore, and I heard Mum scold me. I didn't imagine it because I was unwell; I actually heard her. She said, 'Language, Malcolm,' in that way she has. I actually heard her." This last was to his father, and came out more challengingly than he had meant. He was surprised by the response.

"It's all right, son. If you say you heard her, I believe you. What we need to figure out is how and why you heard her--and why we didn't. Captain?"

Archer had been scanning the area. "Nothing," he said, shutting off the device and returning it to his pocket. "How did you hear her, Malcolm? In your mind? Through a communicator or radio? Or was it like she was right here with you?"

"The last--as if she was right by me. No, not right by me--in the next room." He moved to stand where he had been when the nausea had hit. "Over there." He pointed along the corridor to a doorway five or six meters away.

Reed senior strode to the door and flung it open, revealing yet another empty room.

T'Pol, who in her alien-controlled state had stood by impassively during Reed's sudden incapacity, said in her strangely flat monotone, "We must descend."

Archer looked questioningly at Reed, who shrugged and said, "I don't know, sir. I wouldn't have thought a voice could travel between floors in a structure like this, but nothing here seems normal."

Archer addressed the aliens through T'Pol. "We're five levels down, and scans are showing a minimum of ten more levels below us. Have you found our missing people, or are we just searching at random?"

T'Pol tipped her head to one side as if listening. "We believe your people are on the next level, but we cannot tell where. We must descend."

Captain Reed gave an explosive sigh of relief. "Can you tell how many people? Are they all there. Are they well?"

Her reply was as maddeningly limited as her earlier directions had been. "People. Just people."

The elder Reed looked ready to press the point, but Archer held up a hand to silence him. He asked her, "Can I speak with Commander T'Pol?"

"We would have to leave her. Her mind sleeps, and it cannot wake while we are here."

"If you left her now, would you be able to get back again?"

There was a pause, and then, "We do not know. It was she who made the contact."

"Then I suggest we go to the next level," Archer said. "Once we're there, if you can't say for sure that our people are on that level, I'll have to ask you to let me speak with T'Pol."

The Vulcan inclined her head in acknowledgment.

Archer turned to the others. "Gentlemen?" He indicated with a wave of his arm that they should move toward the ladder to the next level down.

* * *

Tucker spent several hours in engineering, running simulations on Reed's EM barrier and comparing them to the scans of the complex's shielding. Every test confirmed what he'd suspected: the configuration of the unknown shielding was basically the same as Reed's, but it worked much better, and over a much larger area than they'd ever tried.

Every so often, Tucker contacted the bridge for a status report, but nothing had changed. They were still in orbit around the planet, the _D'Kyr_ was keeping pace with them, and as far as they knew, the landing party was on the planet. Since their scans simply bounced back, there was no way to tell for sure. He'd talked to Sato the last time he checked in with the bridge and had heard the same frustration in her voice as he was feeling. She'd been trying to find a way to get a transmission through the shielding, but unfortunately, she was having the same results as he was.

When he found himself running a simulation with the same variables for the third time, Tucker decided he wasn't going to crack the puzzle. He headed for the bridge. As he exited the turbolift and strode toward the captain's chair, he said, "Hoshi, contact Captain Stal. Maybe their scans have found something ours haven't."

She nodded sharply. A few moments later, the Vulcan's calm visage appeared on the viewscreen.

No sense in wasting pleasantries on someone who wouldn't appreciate them, Tucker thought. "We're not having any luck getting through the shielding," he said.

Stal raised both eyebrows. Tucker expected a scathing retort about luck having nothing to do with scientific endeavors. But the Vulcan said mildly, "I don't understand why you haven't been able to penetrate the shield. My science officer reports that it has the exact specifications as that of your experimental electromagnetic barrier. You are aware of its inherent weaknesses, and you should be able to exploit them."

"Well, yes," Tucker said, thrown off balance. The _D'Kyr'_ s captain had spoken without any of the usual haughtiness he had come to expect from Vulcans. Tucker cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Stal leaned forward as if he was about to impart something of great importance.

"There is something you should consider," Stal said even more seriously than usual.

"Oh?" Tucker asked warily.

Stal leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. "Is it possible your database with the EM barrier research has been compromised?"

Tucker stared at the man. How could he have overlooked something so obvious? All the while he'd been marveling at the similarity of the two shielding systems, and he'd missed the most likely answer. Who knew what capabilities the aliens had? It was entirely possible that while they were flitting around _Enterprise_ in their noncorporeal state, trying to get the crew's attention, they'd also been sifting through the data stored in the ship's computers. Taking that reasoning one more step, he thought it entirely possible that the aliens were responsible for the predicament of the shuttle's passengers to begin with.

"We'll run a check, although our security system should have caught anything like that," he told the Vulcan.

Stal dipped his head in acknowledgment. "We are unfamiliar with these aliens. They may have..."

When Stal hesitated, Tucker asked, "Stolen our research?"

"We have no proof of that," Stal said. "However, we do not know the capabilities or the motivations of the aliens." He gazed steadily at Tucker, who suddenly felt like a student being coaxed to the correct answer by an indulgent teacher.

"Doesn't mean it isn't what's happening," Tucker said, and signed off.

* * *

Reed wiped a hand across his eyes. His headache, combined with the unchanging scenery, was making concentration difficult. They'd been on this level for more than an hour, checking each room since T'Pol had said the shuttle passengers were close by. Blue door stripes apart, this level was exactly the same as the other five. His father was a hairsbreadth away from grabbing T'Pol and trying to shake information from her, and he could tell that even Captain Archer was beginning to lose patience.

He opened the next door. A mere step inside showed him the room was empty, the same as all the others they'd checked on this level--so much so that he was almost sure he'd been here before. Wasn't that crack near the ceiling the same as one he'd seen two corridors back? Were they walking in circles? It would be worryingly simple in a place like this, and they only had the aliens' assurance that they were making any progress.

As he backed out of the room, Reed stumbled and almost collided with Archer. Startled, he snatched back the hand he had automatically used to steady himself against the wall. He stared at his palm in confusion. "It's wet," he said.

"Of course it's wet. These caves are damp." It was his mother's voice, clear, as if she was very close. And what was that remark about caves about?

"Lieutenant?" Archer asked.

Fighting against the increasing pain behind his eyes, Reed struggled to reply. "The wall is wet."

Archer ran a hand over the area of wall beside Reed, and shook his head. "It's as dry as a bone."

"No, look!" Reed senior exclaimed. "On his leg, where he wiped his hand. There's a damp patch."

Reed glanced at his father. "Mum says the caves are damp."

"You heard her again?" his father asked, and then, as Reed sagged against the wall, "This has gone on long enough, Captain Archer. Whatever's going on here is hurting my son. It has to stop."

Reed looked up at his father, and for the first time in his life, he saw that his father was uncertain. Stuart Reed had always been a man who would stick to his decisions as well as his opinions, holding his ground even when faced with mitigating circumstances. And yet here he was, ready to give up the search for his wife because his son was suffering. Even through his pain, Reed felt something close to amazement as he realized that his father truly was concerned about his welfare--and showing it.

"I agree that it's got to stop." Archer's voice was grim. Two strides brought him to where T'Pol was standing as the aliens, through her, observed the interaction between the humans. He caught hold of her arm, forcing her attention on himself. "Where are our missing people?"

* * *

"There's no indication of unauthorized access to Lieutenant Reed's research," Sato said. She smiled dryly at Tucker. "Except yours."

Tucker sighed. He and Sato were in the captain's ready room. He'd thought they both could use a break from the bridge. Sato had reported she'd found no indication of a security breach of the ship's data systems. That didn't surprise him. Many species had capabilities greater than their own. If these aliens wanted to root around in their databases without the crew being aware of it, they could probably do it. After all, they'd come right through the bulkheads onto the ship without anyone being any the wiser until they'd wanted to make their presence known. The thought that they may have been hanging around, watching the crew, for an unspecified length of time gave Tucker the creeps.

With an effort, he brought his thoughts back on track. "Don't worry, Hoshi. I'll tell Malcolm that I did it. If anything, improving his security coding for his research files should give him something to do when they get back."

"If they get back," Sato mumbled pessimistically.

"They will," Tucker said. "The captain's been in worse scrapes. He's just...out of contact right now. I keep telling myself he and the others are safe and sound down on that planet." He paused to sigh again. At least Stal had sent a message informing him that T'Kas believed T'Pol was in no danger. That fit with what he'd been feeling--or rather, not feeling. He hadn't felt _anything_ through his strange bond with their Vulcan first officer. Normally he didn't. It was usually only under conditions of extreme stress on T'Pol's part that he'd been aware of it. If she'd been hurt, he was positive he would have known. That time recently when she and Sato had been kidnapped by Orions was a good example. He hadn't been aware of anything wrong, and it had turned out that T'Pol had been treated fairly decently by the Orions. She had been in no serious distress. She had not feared for her life. If she was dead--Well, he didn't like to think about what he might feel if they were no longer connected. He somehow knew it wouldn't be good.

Sato cleared her throat, and his focus snapped back. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm tapped out on ideas to find a way to transport or get a shuttlepod through that shield. What about communications?"

"I've tried every frequency we can transmit, modulating frequencies, and so on," Sato told him. "The last thing I worked on was a narrow-band transmission. It should have been able to punch through the shielding, but it didn't."

Her last statement held a sense of reprimand. Tucker wasn't sure if she was angry at herself for not finding a solution, or upset with him for wasting time sitting here when they could be working. He decided he was too tired to care. In any case, they did need to get back to work. He stood up and motioned her toward the door. "Just keep a positive attitude," he told her as they walked onto the bridge. "Lots of times, that makes a big difference."

As Sato returned to her post at communications, he stood on the upper walkway of the bridge, debating whether he should return to engineering and run some more simulations. Before he could decide, however, Sato called out to him.

"Commander? There's an incoming transmission from _Columbia_."

"Put it through," he told her, stepping down to the lower command level and taking the captain's seat. When Hernandez's image appeared on the screen, he said, "Captain? Has something happened?"

"The cloaked ship is no longer in the area," she told him with a wry smile. "When we approached the anomaly, it went to warp. We were able to track it sporadically as a sensor ghost, and it was heading out of the sector."

"Are you coming back here?" Tucker asked.

"Not unless you need us," Hernandez said. "I'd feel better keeping a lookout here, at least for the time being, on the chance the cloaked ship might come back. It seemed to be using the anomaly as a hiding spot."

"Sounds good to me," Tucker agreed. "Your presence there might keep them away."

After signing off, Tucker leaned back in the chair and exhaled heavily. At least they had one less thing to worry about now.

* * *

Reed reluctantly allowed his father to help him as they moved down the corridor. He was still reeling from the pain in his head, and he actually welcomed an arm to lean on. The realization had forcibly struck him that his father was honestly worried about him. And he didn't want to ruin the moment and provoke an outburst by refusing his assistance. Actually, he thought dazedly, it wasn't so much that his father cared about his welfare. It was just that he had never showed it. That wasn't in keeping with Stuart Reed's harsh, stoic personality. So with a mumbled, "Thank you," he let his father put an arm under his shoulder for support.

"I know you're stubborn, Malcolm," his father said as they slowly followed Archer and T'Pol to the end of the corridor. "Don't let it get in the way of accepting help when you need it." When Reed glanced over at his father in surprise, the elder Reed laughed quietly. "I can be the epitome of stubborn, but you know that. You may be mostly your mother's son, but you learned stubbornness from me." He harrumphed. "My stubbornness--and my pride--have caused a lot of rifts in our family. And it upsets your mother terribly. Don't be like me that way, all right?"

Reed recognized the statement for what it was: an olive branch. His father, in his own unique way, was apologizing. He managed a smile, small because of the pain, but genuine nonetheless. They caught up with Archer and T'Pol, who waited at the end of the corridor. Another corridor crossed it, branching off on either side in a T.

"How are you feeling, Malcolm?" Archer asked.

"Better," he said, then at Archer's disbelieving expression, he admitted, "A bit wobbly."

"Are you still hearing your mother?"

Reed closed his eyes and concentrated. The only thing that did was to make his headache threaten to return. "No."

"Why is it, I wonder," Captain Reed said as they stood considering which corridor to take next, "that every time Malcolm hears his mother, he experiences a blinding headache?"

"It's almost like the pain becomes too much to allow me to hear her," Reed said.

"And why just Malcolm?" Archer asked. "If it's something to do with a familial bond, why don't you hear your wife, Captain Reed?"

About this time, Reed would have expected T'Pol to make some comment about bonds between mother and child, but the aliens were still with her, silently watching their discussion. They provided no clue.

Reed senior shook his head, unable to give a reason. "Maybe it's something Malcolm and his mother have in common. Do you have any latent telepathic abilities, son?"

"Mum's telepathic?" Reed asked in surprise.

"She scored average for a human on the test Starfleet gave her when she started doing consulting work for them," Captain Reed said with a touch of his old disdain. Then he snorted. "Nothing extraordinary."

"Think, Malcolm," Archer urged him. "What do you and your mother have in common?"

"We're both good at higher mathematics," he said, quickly adding, "Father's no slouch in that department, either. Um, none of us can carry a tune very well." He smiled. "We all like pineapple."

"Luckily I'm not allergic to it like you and your mother are," Captain Reed said. "I don't know how you put up with those allergy shots just to eat some tropical fruit. It wouldn't bother me a bit to not eat pineapple."

"Allergies," Reed muttered. "Both Mum and I have allergies. If it's not the allergies themselves, maybe it's something to do with the medication we take for them."

Archer interrupted impatiently, although he tempered it with an apologetic look at his tactical officer. "Look, we're still not really sure you're hearing your mother. And we have no way to test this particular theory of a common factor allowing you to communicate."

"Yes, we do," Captain Reed said, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out a hypospray. "I brought some of Mary's antihistamines, in case she needs them when we find her." Gazing at the hypo, he said, "I can inject myself and see if it has any effect."

"That's not a good idea," Archer protested. "You said you don't have allergies. It might be dangerous to take it when you don't need it. It might not even be the reason Malcolm and your wife can communicate."

"It isn't dangerous," Reed senior countered. "The worst that will happen is that I won't have to worry about getting hay fever in the next, say, two weeks."

Reed goggled. His father had actually made a joke. To be sure, it had been delivered sarcastically, but it was still a joke. He reached out and put his hand over his father's on the hypo. "Let me. I've already been in contact with Mother, and I tolerate the medication well."

"That won't prove anything," his father argued. "You've already heard your mother. If I take it and then if I hear her..."

After a moment, Reed took his hand away. He was right.

As Captain Reed raised the hypo toward his neck, Archer said, "I still don't like this."

"What have we got to lose?" the man responded. "Besides, wouldn't you try anything you could if one of your loved ones' lives might be at stake?"

Archer held his gaze for a few moments, then gave in with a grudging nod. Captain Reed closed his eyes, and with a push of his thumb, he injected the hypo's contents into his neck.

Almost immediately, Reed heard his mother again. "Malcolm!" came the voice in his head, louder than before. "How could you have let your father do something so stupid?"

"Father?" Reed asked, rushing to clutch the older man by the arm as he swayed on his feet. "Are you all right? Did you hear her?"

His father groaned. "I don't hear anything but you yelling at me." He paused to wince. "Not so loud, please. I'm developing a vicious headache."

* * *

Tucker was sitting in the command chair for lack of anything better to do. The best he could say about it was, it was a nice change of scenery from his office. He looked over as Sato called to him. Something had changed, for she was practically beaming at him as she said, "Sir? I think I can get a signal through the shielding."

"Good work, Hoshi," he said. "What did you come up with?"

Sato lowered her eyes, and although Tucker wasn't sure, he thought he detected a blush rising up her cheeks. He glanced around the bridge. Everyone was watching, just as hopeful as he was that they would be able to reach the landing party. Surely that wouldn't bother Sato; she'd been the focus of attention on the bridge before when they'd been waiting to establish contact with someone away from the ship.

"I'd rather not say, sir, until I try it and find out if it works."

Tucker frowned. He couldn't think what she might be planning. He understood the mechanics of the communications console and what it could do, as well as all the theories on subspace communication. Maybe it was because it had taken her so long to come up with an idea that might get them through the shielding. She must be worried about appearing foolish if she failed. "Go ahead, then," he said. "Don't keep us in suspense."

He watched as she put her earpiece in place, muttered something under her breath, and pushed a few buttons. A huge grin suddenly brightened her face. "It works!" she cried, her hands flying over the console.

Tucker got up and approached her console, watching her work. As far as he could tell, she wasn't doing anything differently than usual. "What did you do?" he asked curiously.

She glanced up at him, then looked back down at her console, avoiding his eyes. "I'm transmitting a signal the way I would normally do--except for one thing. I...ah...made myself believe that I could do it."

Tucker wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. Then he heard Mayweather behind him at the helm snicker, and he knew he had. "Would you mind explaining that, Hoshi?"

"It was really your idea, Commander," she told him, then shot Mayweather a glare before returning her attention to him. "You told me to 'think positive.' So I did. I kept telling myself that I could get a signal through the shielding, and I kept sending it, and kept telling myself that it would work, and just now, the transmission got through. Now I just have to 'think positive' that I can contact the captain."

"You're kidding me, right?" Tucker asked.

Sato solemnly shook her head. Tucker wasn't sure what to say. If Sato believed that believing was enough to enable the transmission to get through--

"Just like Tinker Bell," he heard Mayweather comment.

It took Tucker a moment to place the reference, and when he did, he almost laughed out loud. But for Sato's sake, he didn't. "There are a lot of unknowns in this universe," he said, turning to face the helmsman. "And as Phlox will tell you, the vast majority of the human brain's potential is unused. For now, if it gets us in contact with the captain, I'm willing to believe that Hoshi's belief worked."

Tucker sat down in the captain's chair, recalling the story of Peter Pan. Tinker Bell the fairy had been dying, and through children's belief that there were indeed such things as fairies, Tinker Bell had been saved. Who was he to say that in this situation, when they'd tried everything else, the power of positive thinking wasn't what had worked? He just hoped he didn't have to explain it to the Vulcans. "Hoshi, do you think you can get a good scan of the complex and find our people?" he asked.

"I'm sure I can," she responded immediately.

She worked for a few minutes, her mouth moving. As he read her lips, Tucker caught himself chanting silently along with her, "I think I can." He bit back a grin as he saw Mayweather doing the same thing.

When data from the scans started coming in, Tucker called up the information on the armrest of the captain's chair. "Uh oh," he said. "I see we've found the captain and the others, but this isn't what we expected to be there."

Instead of a multistory complex, the scans were showing a series of caves in rocky terrain. It was a totally natural landscape, barren of life but for the landing party and other individuals who had to be the shuttle passengers and crew. There was nothing artificial on the entire planet except for the shielding that covered a single area.

"I've made contact with the captain," Sato suddenly called out.

* * *

Archer shut his communicator. T'Pol had been standing nearby during the entire conversation he'd had with Tucker, and now he turned to her with fire in his eyes. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

"And where is my wife?" Stuart Reed interjected.

"One thing at a time, Captain Reed," Archer told him without taking his eyes off T'Pol.

"This was a test," T'Pol responded. "The test has now been terminated. A member of your crew has come to the correct conclusion. She learned to believe to see things as she knew they are."

Archer's brow furrowed as he attempted to make sense of this last extraordinary sentence, and he took a step toward her. "What are you talking about?"

The aliens inhabiting T'Pol didn't appear to be intimidated. Calmly she replied, "We have been conducting an experiment. We wanted to see how humans perceive the universe around them. We chose a scenario that would elicit your reactions when other humans are in potential danger. We took the shuttle and brought it here, because a human related to one of those on board was in the vicinity on your vessel." Her gaze went to Reed, then shifted to his father. "We did not expect yet another related human to travel such a great distance in response to this."

"What right do you--" Archer started, but the aliens speaking through T'Pol cut him off.

"This was an experiment," she said as if that explained everything. "We wished to learn more about your species and how you perceive the universe."

The aliens speaking through T'Pol were beginning to repeat themselves. Archer had a feeling they wouldn't learn much more from them. "If you wanted to know about us, all you had to do was ask," he said in exasperation.

"To do so would have invalidated the experiment," she said calmly.

"So you treated us like lab rats, and used my wife and the others as the cheese at the end of a maze," Captain Reed said harshly through gritted teeth. "Where is my wife?"

"She and the others are safe," T'Pol said.

"You said the test is finished," Archer said evenly. "Release our people."

T'Pol dipped her head. A wavering sensation filled Archer's vision, and the concrete corridor they stood in morphed into a rocky cave passageway. Water trickled down the sides to a small stream at their feet.

"This is where you have been all along," T'Pol said. "When presented with the shielding, you expected it to cover something of an artificial nature--a structure--and so that is what you saw. Even the shielding, which was based on your own design, was too strong for you because you perceived it to be an obstacle."

A quavery voice came from down the passageway. "Stuart?"

"Mary?" Captain Reed called back, and hurried in that direction.

Reed took a step forward, staring down the passageway. Archer could sense the man's desire to go after his father, but he knew duty held the tactical officer in place as the first of the shuttle's passengers came into sight. Soon others followed, walking in a straggling line toward them. Archer counted seventeen of them. All were wearing Starfleet uniforms. That accounted for the shuttle's crew and all the passengers but one. Finally, at the end of the group, came Reed's parents, walking arm in arm.

Next to him, Archer heard Reed let out a breath in relief.

"Go on, Malcolm," he said, giving him a slight push in the direction of his parents. "I think everything's going to turn out all right."

* * *

Archer stood to one side as T'Pol, still in contact with the aliens, took a seat on a biobed in sickbay. The aliens were about to leave her. Both Phlox and T'Kas were in attendance to make sure T'Pol came through the transition with no ill effects.

T'Pol fixed her alien-blank stare on Archer. "Our species are much alike."

"How's that?" Archer asked, not particularly interested. He would be happy never to see these aliens again. All he wanted was to have his first officer back and get on with the business of exploration.

"Both our species are explorers," T'Pol said.

Archer felt a shiver run up his spine. What she'd said was very close to what he'd just been thinking, with one major exception. "We don't experiment on other species," he said sharply.

"You go places whether the beings living there want you to or not," came the reply, and for the first time since the aliens had used T'Pol to speak, Archer heard something resembling emotion. The tone was definitely condescending. A few years ago, arrogant superiority had been the norm from T'Pol herself when she was critical of something he'd done, but she'd changed with her exposure to humans. He was sure it wasn't her speaking now. "You affect their lives and their worlds without permission. You believe you have a right to explore the environments of those others, without consideration for those you might meet there."

The accusation stung. There had been times they'd caused harm, but it had never been intentional. Archer wondered if, at some time, _Enterprise_ had come across these very same aliens and had somehow hurt them. But who could tell with noncorporeal beings? Their very nature made contact between them and sentient life in physical form such as humans unlikely.

"We are Organians," T'Pol continued.

The name meant nothing to him. "Organians?"

"You have met us before, Captain Archer. You simply don't remember. But our meeting led us to change our fundamental protocol of observation without interference with other species. We realized that observation alone was insufficient."

Archer's jaw worked for a few moments before he could speak. He finally managed to get out, "So, you're saying we're responsible for how you contact other species, experimenting on them--and we don't remember it?"

"Yes. It is a simple matter for us to adjust memories."

Archer glanced at Phlox and T'Kas. They seemed as puzzled as he was. He turned his gaze back on T'Pol and tried another tack. "If we've done anything to hurt you--"

"You have not. And we intend no harm to you, or to any others."

T'Pol suddenly blinked several times, and Archer wondered if the aliens were leaving her. But when she spoke again, it was clear the aliens were still present. Or perhaps a different one of the aliens who were in contact with her. Her tone was softer, and Archer could have sworn he caught a glimpse of compassion in her eyes.

"For thousands of years, our criteria for first contact with another species were based on their level of intelligence. To determine that, we would observe other species' reactions to the unexpected. But your reaction, Captain Archer, and subsequent discussion with us when two crew members close to you died--" Archer started visibly, scouring his memory for such an event, but came up blank. "--led one of our observers to request a change in our noninterference rule. He also requested a first contact with your species, although technically that had already occurred."

T'Pol blinked, and her voice changed back to the haughty tone. "You told us that to know what it means to be human, we had to experience it--that we couldn't watch and not interfere when help was needed." Again her voice changed to the softer, more conciliatory tone. "You placed a warning buoy to warn of a deadly virus at the site we were observing, effectively ending ten thousand years of observation. In a way, you forced us to change our methods." For the first time, the aliens smiled using T'Pol's features. "And in the future, we will make official first contact. It will be sooner than we had originally anticipated."

Phlox, med scanner in hand, sidled up to Archer. "I'm reading increasing distress from Commander T'Pol."

"From her or the aliens?" Archer asked.

"From her. I believe she is trying to take back her consciousness."

Archer glanced at T'Kas, who nodded slightly. "I feel her presence, but it is not steady."

"It is time for us to leave," T'Pol said. "You will remember nothing of us other than that we were here and assisted you in the rescue of your people."

Archer rushed forward to catch T'Pol as she slumped off the biobed. He was placing her back on the bed with Phlox's help when her eyes snapped open. She focused on his face as Phlox quickly activated the bed's monitoring equipment.

"T'Pol? Are you all right?" Archer asked.

"Yes." She moved to sit up, but a clucking noise from Phlox made her lie back down. "What happened?"

"You were in contact with noncorporeal beings who helped us find the shuttle's crew and passengers. They used you to speak to us. Don't you remember?"

"No." She cast a glance at Phlox, then T'Kas. "It is strange that I can remember nothing from the time I attempted to contact them until now."

"There's really not much to tell," Archer said. He paused to think about the mission, then shrugged. "They didn't do much, other than transport us to the planet and back. That's it. We didn't even find out what they call themselves."

* * *

Tucker intended to grab a quick snack and then go to his quarters for a well-deserved nap, but one look across the mess hall made him change his mind. Reed was sitting at a table with his parents. _Enterprise_ 's tactical officer, who a few days ago had been dreading his father's arrival, was actually smiling. Tucker took that as a good sign, and after getting a piece of pie and a glass of milk, he headed for their table. Maybe he'd get a chance to ask Reed's mother about her work in quantum physics. He still had a few questions after reading those papers she'd written.

As he approached the group, he reminded himself to be on his best behavior--not so much for the elder Reeds' sake, but for his friend's. He had no idea how upset Reed would be if he acted in a manner that might not be considered proper in front of his parents. Reed could be uptight about those things, and he didn't want to embarrass the man. "Malcolm, may I join you and your family?" he asked politely.

"Please, sir," Reed said, rising to his feet, and almost making Tucker laugh at his formality. Reed no doubt was doing it for his father's benefit. As Tucker sat down, Reed performed introductions. "You've met my father; this is my mother. Mother, this is Commander Charles Tucker, our chief engineer."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Tucker said. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to meet you, Dr. Cunningham."

The woman practically glowed with pleasure, but said demurely, "Please, call me Mary."

"Or Mrs. Reed," her husband put in with a frown.

"That's right," she said quickly. "I only use my family name in connection with my work. I use it when I teach and publish."

As Tucker took a bite of his pie, he wondered if she was as intimidated by her husband as her son seemed to be, but apparently not, for she said sincerely, "I am first and foremost Mary Reed, the wife of this incredibly brave man. He traveled all that distance to make sure I was safe." She patted the elder Reed's arm lovingly, and Tucker saw a satisfied gleam in the older man's eyes.

"Mum," her son said in embarrassment. "Not in public."

Mary turned her bright, birdlike gaze on him. "And I'm also your mother, and Madeline's mother, before I'm Dr. Cunningham."

Tucker swallowed the bite of pie and said, "All right, then. Mrs. Reed. I don't think I could possibly call you by something as familiar as your first name. You deserve more respect from me, seeing as how you're Malcolm's mother."

In a loud aside to his son, Stuart Reed said, "He's very smooth."

"You have no idea," his son muttered.

Tucker wasn't sure, but he thought he'd been complimented. Maybe. He'd take it as such, and poured on some more charm. "You've done a fine job raising Malcolm, ma'am. He's an excellent officer, and a good man, and I'm proud to call him my friend." For Stuart Reed's ears, he added, "He's the best tactical officer in Starfleet. He wouldn't be on _Enterprise_ if he wasn't." Still looking at Mary, Tucker peeked at Reed's father from the corner of his eye. The man had heard him all right, for a proud, smug smile lit the man's face. Not sure he was reading the other man correctly, Tucker turned to face him fully. "I mean it, sir. He's the best. I don't know what we'd do without him."

Reed cleared his throat and changed the subject. "We were just talking about what it was like down on the planet."

"Oh, yes," Mary said. "It was quite extraordinary. We were in those caves for days, from what Malcolm's told us. You would have thought we'd have become hungry, at the very least, but it wasn't until we came on board here that I realized I was famished." A pensive frown marred her features as she gazed at the empty plate before her. "I've heard that in such situations, time seems to drag, but it was rather the opposite, really. It seemed like we'd just arrived there and, all of a sudden, there you were, Malcolm." Her smile returned and she looked adoringly at her husband.. "And there you were too, dear."

* * *

Archer stood at the window in his ready room, staring out at the _D'Kyr_. The Vulcan ship was preparing to take the shuttle and its crew, along with Captain and Mrs. Reed, back to Earth. Sending the impulse-only shuttle back to Earth on its own was out of the question, and it was too big to fit inside _Enterprise_ 's launch bay. It had been lucky the Vulcan ship had been with them; otherwise, _Enterprise_ would have had to provide escort duties to see the shuttle home.

His musings were interrupted by T'Pol's arrival to tell him that the _D'Kyr_ would be ready to leave within the hour.

"I'm glad this is over and we can get back to exploring," he told her.

She offered a slight dip of her head in agreement.

He peered closely at her. "You're sure you don't remember anything about your contact with those aliens?"

"I'm sure," she replied. "According to Doctor Phlox, it was if I was asleep the entire time." She hesitated, uncomfortable, before saying, "It is disturbing to know that they used me as a mouthpiece and that I was totally unaware of it."

Archer grunted. "Thank God they weren't wisps. You have to admit, it was pretty convenient they showed up when they did. I'm not sure we could have gotten through those layers of rock to the cave system without their help. Have you figured out what exactly it was that was blocking our transporter signal?"

"Negative. The material in the cave walls is of an unknown composition."

Archer sat down at his desk and toyed with a stylus. "We still don't know how the shuttle got here."

"We may never know," T'Pol said. "Many things in this universe are beyond out ability to comprehend. However..."

Archer gazed at her. He knew her well enough to realize her reluctance to speak meant that she had a theory, but one that wasn't based soundly on scientific facts. "Yes?"

" _Columbia_ did report that the cloaked vessel has left the vicinity. Shortly thereafter, the spatial anomaly disappeared as well."

"You think there's a connection between those two things and what happened with the shuttle?"

She shrugged and offered no more information, leaving Archer to wonder if the Romulans had had a hand in this. The Romulans had been quiet of late, but he wouldn't be surprised if they were up to their old sneaky habits. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to do some exploration in the direction the cloaked vessel had gone.

* * *

Reed had thought he'd be glad to see his father leave. He'd been wrong. In just a few minutes, his parents would board the _D'Ky_ r, and he didn't know when he'd see them again. But maybe it was just as well. The crisis involving his mother had made him see his father in a whole new light. It was going to take some time to get used to this new side of the stiff, harsh man who had always hidden his feelings almost as well as a Vulcan.

"It's good to see that you have friends here, Malcolm," his mother said as they walked down the corridor toward the airlock where they would board the _D'Kyr_.

Reed smiled. "They're all good people, Mother."

She stopped and faced him. She was as serious as he'd ever seen her. "Malcolm, I just want to tell you...I'm glad you've found your place in life. You're in a profession that suits you, and from what I hear, you do it well. I'm proud of you, Malcolm." She glanced at her husband." We're _both_ proud of you. If I've never told you that, I'm sorry."

Reed gazed at her, gratified, but also so amazed that he couldn't find any words to say. It was so unlike his mother to say such things, especially in front of his father. So he settled for a quick nod and a smile. He took her arm, starting them off down the corridor again. They arrived at the airlock to find Tucker waiting next to the door.

"The _D'Kyr_ has docked with us, and you can board now," Tucker told the older couple. "And I just want to say one more time how nice it was to meet you. Have a pleasant journey home."

"Thank you," Reed's mother said with a dimpled smile. Her husband gave the engineer a curt nod.

Without warning, she turned and gave Reed a fierce embrace, which he returned after only a moment's hesitation, mindful of Tucker's curious gaze on them. Then she surprised him by turning back to Tucker. Surely she wasn't going to hug the man!

"Commander Tucker," she said firmly. "I'm counting on you to keep my son out of trouble."

If she only knew, Reed thought, recalling his stay in a wine cellar on Risa. Apparently Tucker did too, for he could see the man biting his lip. However, there were some things you just didn't tell your mother.

As Tucker opened the airlock, Stuart Reed spoke for the first time since they'd left the mess hall. "You go on ahead, Mary. I'll catch up in a moment."

His wife nodded and made her way through the airlock and onto the other ship. Father and son watched until she was out of sight. Stuart Reed took a deep breath and turned toward his son.

"She's right, you know," he told Reed. "We are proud of you."

Reed stared at his father, dumbfounded. He hadn't thought he'd ever hear him say something like that. He opened his mouth to stutter his thanks, but his father held up a hand.

"It's not that I didn't approve of your career choice," his father said. "It's more that it took you away from us. We haven't seen you since you were assigned to _Enterprise_ , and you don't write very often."

Reed thought it best not to retort that he hadn't received many letters from them, either. He kept quiet as his father continued to speak.

"Then, when I retired, I was looking forward to spending more time with your mother, maybe traveling for pleasure where we wanted instead of where the Royal Navy sent me. So what does she do? She goes offworld on consulting assignments. She couldn't even talk to me about what she was doing because of the classified nature of her work." He harrumphed in frustration. "As far as I was concerned, Starfleet had taken both of you away from me. I resented it. And I took it out on both of you."

Reed had never considered the situation from his father's point of view. It explained a lot about the man's attitude. To have two family members taken away, both by the same organization! He expected he'd react much the same way if it had been him. "I understand, Father," Reed said softly.

"It's too bad that it took something like this to bring us back together, son." Stuart Reed gave him a lopsided smile. "We should have talked long ago. Really talked. I hope we can do so in the future."

"I'd like that, Father," Reed replied sincerely.

When Stuart Reed put out his hand, Reed grasped it firmly, expecting a handshake, but found himself pulled into a clumsy, thankfully brief hug. As they pulled apart, his father looked him in the eye and said, "It was good to see you, Malcolm, and to find out how valued you are by your captain and crewmates. The British Navy doesn't know what it's missing in you."

Without a backward glance, Stuart Reed turned and strode through the airlock. Reed watched him go, thinking about all the things his father had just said to him. The awkwardness he'd been feeling was replaced by another, unaccustomed sense of contentment where his father was concerned, and he suddenly wished they'd had more time together.

"Malcolm? Is it all right if I close the airlock now?"

Reed jerked, brought out of his reverie by Tucker's question. He hadn't realized the man was still present. "Yes. Go ahead," he said.

As the door shut, the indicator lights tracking the process of the procedure went out one by one, until at last a different light came on, this one to show the seal was secure. Almost immediately, Reed could feel a slight vibration through the deck plating that meant the _D'Kyr_ was undocking.

"Your father wasn't so bad," Tucker offered. "I don't know what you were worried about."

Reed was still trying to take in everything he'd just heard. He wasn't ready to talk to Tucker about how his perception of his father had changed. "Do you think those aliens who helped us could have done something to him?" he asked, not sure if he was making a joke or not.

Before Tucker could reply, he was paged. He took the call at the com panel next to the airlock.

"Trip?" came Archer's voice. "The _D'Kyr_ is underway. Are we ready to get moving too?"

"Yes, sir, Cap'n," Tucker said. "I was just heading back to engineering. Do we have new orders?"

"No. Just the same old orders. We're going exploring," Archer said and cut the connection.

Reed shared a grin with Tucker at the captain's tone. The man had sounded positively happy. As they moved down the corridor toward the turbolift, Tucker said, "How much do you want to bet we go exploring in the direction of that cloaked vessel?"

Reed laughed. He wasn't going to take that bet. That Romulans had been in the area where the missing shuttle had been found was too great a coincidence not to investigate. Still, despite the possible dangers in such a course, Reed realized that he felt the best about his career in Starfleet that he had in a long time. And, most surprisingly, he had his father to thank for it.


End file.
